


The Falcon's Cry

by lintila



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-09 23:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lintila/pseuds/lintila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old legends say that Merlin is a Cambion – the child of an incubus and a mortal woman, a child born without breath or heart beat. But what does it mean for his adulthood? This is my take on Merlin “coming of age”. Arther/Merlin Slash. AU of 4th Season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Legend is Born

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin nor am I affiliated with the BBC.
> 
> Old legends say that Merlin is a Cambion – the child of an incubus and a mortal woman, a child born without breath or heart beat. But what does it mean for his adulthood? This is my take on Merlin "coming of age".
> 
> Warning: Merlin/Arthur slashy goodness & vague references to Merlin/others in later chapters.

In a small, squalid hut a young women lay panting on a bloody, straw mattress. Three older women, one short, fat and motherly, one old and withered and one young, bustled around her, busying themselves and exchanging dark glances. Between them they had attended many a birth, but an ill feeling lingered in the air tonight. The girl had passed the point of exhaustion some time back and the glazed look in her eyes boded ill.

"Push lass." The sharp command came from the oldest, most experienced, of the midwives.

"You must push. The ill begotten spawn must come out, if you are to have a chance."

With a hoarse scream the woman did just that, straining with the effort, she finally felt something give. There was scurrying action at the foot of the bed, then whispers between the three older women.

"A boy." Stated the youngest.

"Alive?" Questioned short one.

"Nay the babe's cold, no breath." Came the reply.

"Quick take it away then. Maybe 'tis for the best."

"Hush, have you no shame, the death of an innocent it terrible, bastard or no." The crone interrupted the whispered exchange.

The mother hearing the last muted comment gave a strangled cry.

"No, not dead. He can't be dead. Give him here. You must give him to me."

Glancing at her older companions, the young midwife moved reluctantly forward, placing the babe in the mother's arms. Then she turned from the pair a look of pity on her face and busied her self with removing the afterbirth.

Tears slipped down Hunith's sallow cheeks as haunted eyes took in the cold, unbreathing form. She gently ran her hand across the newborn’s chest, trying in vain to find a heartbeat.

"Come lass let us take the little one away, we will bury him under your favourite tree." The old crone said not unkindly.

She did not like to see the girl so distressed, even if she had gotten with child, out of wedlock, in a village where there were no single men. Adulterer and slut, the women called her behind her back, at the same time eying up their husbands suspiciously.

The old crone wasn't so sure, though she kept her suspicions to herself. Hunith had always been a good girl, dreamy like and quiet – elf struck some had called her – but a good girl none the less. The situation of the pregnancy brought to mind another the crone had known, long ago when she herself had been but a maid. That girl too had an ethereal quality, and when she had found that she could no longer hide her swelling belly, she had claimed a beautiful unearthly man had visited her in her sleep, and then disappeared with the dawn. The villagers had mocked her but when the child was born it had been cold and breathless and devoid of life, but it had moved.

The old crone was jarred out of her musing by a shriek from the young midwife, who had returned to stand by the mother's side.

"It moved! It's demon spawn! Undead! It moved."

The other two midwifes swung to look at the child. Sure enough with slow precision the babe lifted its fist and stuck it in its mouth.

This set the short midwife shrieking as well.

Robbed of her breath the crone looked on and felt her stomach drop as she saw solemn, blue eyes – like non she had ever seen on a baby - looking right back at her.

"Shut up you fools." The crone finally gathered her wits about her.

"Do you wish to bring the whole village down about our ears?"

This seemed to shock the two into silence, but it didn't last long.

"The child is devils spawn. It must be killed." The middle woman said emphatically.

The crone resisted the temptation to throttle someone and thought fast.

"Right Agnes." She snapped at the youngest woman, "Go fetch some water from the well and salt from the cellars, if the child is indeed devils spawn it must be disposed of properly."

The girl looked ready to protest for a moment but a sharp glare sent her hurrying on her way. The middle woman was then promptly sent for firewood and flint, with a warning to keep her mouth shut until they had sorted this matter out.

Having got them out of the way the crone turned a thought full eye on the women in the bed. She was clutching the babe to her chest looking stricken.

"Please, you can't . . . he's only a baby . . . he's all I've got . . . ."

"Do be quiet you silly girl." The crone snapped already rushing about the room grabbing things.

"Get up and put on your warmest clothes find a blanket to wrap the little one in too. You haven't a moment to lose."

Bemused and on shaky legs Hunith did as bid. When finished she stood, tired and wan, staring at confusion at the old midwife. A pack was shoved briskly into her already burdened arms.

"It's got food for two weeks and a some coin too, what I could spare." Was the brisk statement given.

"If you want your child to survive you'll have to go now and never return."

Hunith stared.

"Well girl what are you waiting for?"

With a frightened look Hunith started out of the door and into the woods.

Time flew by as she stumbled on, brambles snatching at her clothes; her arms numb clutching her precious bundle, ever glancing behind for sign of pursuit. 

Finally, as dawn peaked over the horizon she collapse at the base of a tree and gave in to exhaustion barely managing to pull her cloak over her before falling into a deep sleep.

xXxXxXx

The sun was high in the sky by the time Hunith awoke, and the woods were teeming with life. She sat up still bone weary and looked down at her child. Deep blue eyes looked back at her, and she smiled – still no breath or pulse, but her body had warmed his and he was alive. She laughed with joy. The despair she had felt, on hearing he was dead, lifted. Echoing her laughter came the cry of a bird of prey.

Hunith looked up in wonder as a falcon swept by to land on the branch above them, its cry echoing around the woods again.

She looked down at her son and felt something settle into place.

"Merlin. My son, Merlin."


	2. Camelot Awaits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old legends say that Merlin is a Cambion – the child of an incubus and a mortal woman, a child born without breath or heart beat. But what does it mean for his adulthood? This is my take on Merlin “coming of age”. Arther/Merlin Slash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin . . . I wish I did.
> 
> Warning: Slash in later chapters (boy on boy action) though not explicit.

Hunith staggered for a moment, propping herself on a tree. She desperately scanned the horizon, yes; it was there in the distance almost hidden by the forest. Camelot.

She smiled for the first time in days, as hope swelled in her chest, she was sure Gaius would help her. Determinedly she hitched her pack higher on her shoulders and reach down to adjust Merlin in his makeshift sling, before marching on.

xXxXxXx

Gaius was pouring out an exact amount of tincture of aconite, when a sharp knock at the door made him drop the entire vial into the mixture. Cursing, he marched over to the door.

"Yes." He snapped at the unwary guardsman who had been unfortunate enough to interrupt his experiment.

"Pardon me sir, but there a young lass outside looking for you." The man replied in a slow, slightly drawling voice.

"Well who is it." Gaius was in no mood for visitors and this, apparently dim-witted individual, did not seem to have worked this out.

"Well now," The guard said in the same slow manner, "I can't say I know sir, she ain't anyone from round here. Cause my mother works in the kitchens and I always say. . . "

"Yes yes" Gaius interrupted, "Did she give a name?"

The guard looked slightly affronted at being cut off mid sentence but none the less he managed to rally what little brains he had.

"Said her name was Hunith, sir, or something of the like, Said you'd know her, sir."

Indeed Gaius did know her, though he hadn't seen her since she was a girl child. He had stayed a few years in her village, learning from an old witch there, back when he was a younger man. Hunith had been a bright, if dreamy, child of ten summers. Her father was recently dead and her mother, with more mouths to feed then she could keep track of, had sent Hunith to live with her old widowed aunt. He had taken her under his wing, teaching her to read and write and which herbs could cure a fever and which could numb pain.

"Yes, I know her. Please send her in." Gaius muttered to the guard, pulling himself together.

Why would Hunith come to him? Surely she would be married by now, or at least be being courted. Why would she make the long journey to Camelot? Especially in such dangerous times?

xXxXxXx

A polite knock at the door signalled Hunith's arrival. Gaius ushered her quickly into the room before stepping back and looking her over critically. The sweet girl he had known was all but gone, Hunith looked haggard and thin, as if the world's weight rested on her shoulders.

"Gaius." Came her relieved sigh. "Help me Gaius, for if you will not, I fear no one else will."

Gaius felt his eyebrow rise at this exclamation and gently guided her to a seat. She let him take her pack but stopped him when he went to take the bundle of blankets she had tied to her front.

"What is wrong." He felt it best to get things out in the open.

Hunith took a breath, opened her mouth, and then closed it again. She repeated this action several times, seemingly lost for words. Eventually she looked Gaius in the eyes and whispered.

"You must reveal this to no one, Gaius."

"Of course not, my child, but what could be so difficult for you to explain."

Instead of answering Hunith reached down to the bundle on her front and moved one of the blankets. Gazing down, Gaius gasped as a tiny baby was uncovered.

"Yours?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yes mine, but, I don't know how to put this . . . there is . . . something wrong with him."

"Wrong with him?" Gaius was slightly sceptical, there wasn't very much that could be wrong with babies except for obvious deformities and diseases. They ate, slept, excreted and cried.

"I am no great Physician when it comes to children Hunith, you know that, my expertise always lay in the more arcane arts."

"I know Gaius, but 'tis no childhood malady." Hunith seemed desperate.

Gaius looked at the drawn face of one he held dear and made a decision.

"Give him here. I do not know what help I may be, but I will certainly look him over.

Hunith hesitantly untied the sling and passed over the baby. Gaius lifted him and knew straight away there was something wrong. The babe was still and not warm enough to the touch. He swiftly uncover the child, cradled him deftly in one arm and brought the other hand to press lightly under the baby's chin.

Gaius' heart sank. He turned to Hunith.

"Surely you must know that the child is dead, Hunith." He said gently.

"But he's not." Hunith was clearly on the verge of hysteria. "He is asleep."

Gaius was lost for words, in his mind he could see Hunith; struggling on the journey to him, bearing her dead child, stricken with grief.

"Watch!" Hunith exclaimed. Before he could do anything she leant forward and gave the bundle a gentle shake and raised her voice slightly.

"Merlin. Wake up."

Gaius looked at the maddened women in pity.

Then, the bundle moved.

Gaius almost dropped it in surprise. He glanced down just in time to see sleepy blue eyes blink open.

Gaius stared at the baby.

And the baby stared back.

In a distant foggy part of his mind Gaius wondered which of them would win in a staring contest, he had a nasty feeling it would be the baby.

He felt his knees give way and he dropped into his seat. Hunith frantically asking if he was alright brought him out of shock. His brain focused and he began to fire off questions.

"How long has he been like this? How was he born? Does he have any strange markings? Who is his father?

Hunith answered as best as she could. The child had been born like this, breathless, without a heartbeat and completely still, when asleep. Born of a natural birth, but almost an entire moon passing late. So late, that the midwives of the villages had made her chew some foul herbs to make the baby come. He had no markings that she had seen, but was too small. She had seen babies born in the village, Merlin was nearly three weeks old, he should be bigger, plumper now, even if she hadn't had much to eat.

When it came to the question of the boy's father Hunith stumbled, squirming and blushing in her seat. It was bad enough that she had done this at all, without having to relate it to a man she saw as a mix of a father and older brother. Finally she blurted out the tale.

"I thought he was a dream. He came in the middle of the night." Her words were quiet and ashamed. "He was so beautiful. And in the morning he was gone. I had thought I dreamt it until my stomach began to swell."

Gaius stared at her for a moment. Then with a burst of motion he thrust the child back into her arms and practically ran across the room. He dragged books down from the shelves, glancing at them before discarding them, muttering to himself all the while. Finally with a triumphant "ah ha", he seized a dusty old tome and rifled through it.

"Here it is!" He bore the book back to the table and placed it in front of Hunith, before leaning over her shoulder to read it out loud.

"Incubus: a demon in male form supposed to lie with women, stealing life energy from them by means of intercourse. An incubus is said to be hauntingly beautiful and magically powerful. Chosen victims of an incubus are likely to be a strong source of untrained magical energy."

"Yes, that sounds right, but what about Merlin!" Hunith cried clutching at Gaius.

"Be patient I am getting to that." Said Gaius, flipping the page and finding the right paragraph.

"Here. An Incubus is unable to beget child upon the female of its kind, the succubus, and so will instead used a human woman as its vessel. The babe shall lie in the mother's womb ten moon cycles, and upon birth be still as death. This shall be true until the child is of seven years of age, when they will develop breath and pulse and be almost indistinguishable from their human counterpart. The offspring of such a match is known as a Cambion. A Cambion is known by its unearthly beauty and strong magical ability."

Gaius trailed into silence.

"What am I to do Gaius?" Hunith asked. "How am I to hide a child who does not breathe?"

"You cannot stay here; he is a child of magic. You must have heard that Uther has instigated a purge on all that is magic. You and the child would be executed. These past three years has seen the death of MANY dear friends of mine. I would not see you follow them."

"But how Gaius?" Hunith despaired.

"You must flee again. Stay the night, but I cannot shelter you for any longer than that. I will give you provisions and money. You must leave Camelot. Start your life again in a new village, far from here. Keep the child inside until he breaths, claim him to be ill. Hide what he is Hunith."

Hunith nodded, resolve stealing over her face.

"I will keep him secret."

Thumping at the door made them both jump guilty and swing round.

"Open up!" Came and imperious, high pitched voice.

Hunith quickly cover Merlin up again.

Without waiting for an answer the door was pushed open and a very determined toddler marched into the room. Prince Arthur gave them both a superior stare, before his face crumpled.

"Gaius . . . My tummy hurts."

xXxXxXx

Gaius had given the young prince a tonic to settle his stomach, and then when he had complained about its taste, he had proceeded to give his young highness a lecture on eating too many sugar plums.

Stomach comfortable and looking appropriately cowed, the three year old focused his attention on Hunith in the unerring way that only a young child can.

"What's that you've got there." He said suspiciously regarding the bundle of blankets that concealed the baby.

"My baby." Hunith replied cautiously.

"Let me see." Came the demand. Hunith glanced at Gaius before reluctantly moving the blankets down.

Prince and baby regarded at each other and a silence stretched on as the adults held their breath. Finally after deep consideration the prince spoke up.

"His ears stick out funny."

It was not to be known by any of those present at that moment, but in that room a destiny had been forged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued
> 
> Well what do you think? I really like young Arthur, I know he's probably a bit too advanced for a three year old, but I like to imagine that he was surrounded by tutors and caretakers from a young age.
> 
> Lintila x


	3. Growing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old legends say that Merlin is a Cambion – the child of an incubus and a mortal woman, a child born without breath or heart beat. But what does it mean for his adulthood? This is my take on Merlin “coming of age”. Arther/Merlin Slash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer, I don't own Merlin, or the BBC adaptation of his tale . . . I wish I did,
> 
> Warning: None for this chapter, but this story will contain SLASH eventually if you don't like this please don't read.

Hunith stayed with Gaius for a week, finally taking the time to recover from Merlin's birth. Gaius watched in relief as she gained some weight on her thin form. However, the danger of Uther, and what he would do if he ever discovered Merlin, weighed in both their minds. 

Hunith and Merlin kept to Gaius' rooms, Hunith mixing tinctures and poultices as a small repayment for the help the Physician was giving her, even at the risk of his own life should they be found out.

In fact their main source of worry came from a small but persistent visitor. Prince Arthur had decided that baby Merlin was a much more fascinating pastime than anything his tutors and nurses could teach him. He had taken to giving his carers the slip and arriving at the Physician's rooms at any time of day, demanding entrance with a tenacity that left the adults at a loss for what to do. Hunith and Gaius dared not rebuke him too harshly or deny him entrance, lest he complain to his father, and expose Merlin. So they spent the best part of the week on tenterhooks fearing what Arthur might unintentionally let slip.

Arthur, meanwhile, was unknowing and unconcerned about the grownups' worries. He was entirely caught up in his new interest. Merlin fascinated him. The baby reminded him of a doll that his father had shown him only a few days before.

Arthur had for the first time realized that, unlike most of the other children, who had been deemed appropriate for him to play with, that he had no Mother. Upon enquiry Uther had quietly taken him to show him his Mothers things, all kept in pristine condition. Most of the items had bored the rambunctious three years old, quickly passed over and forgotten. But the image of his mothers doll had stayed with him.

One of the few things she had brought with her with her Camelot, the doll was a memento from Igraine's own childhood. The one childish thing she had allowed herself to keep, a safety net for her, as she travelled away from her family to marry a man she did not know well at the tender age of fifteen.

The doll was a thing of beauty, expertly crafted, with long, coiled, sooty black hair and brightly painted blue eyes. Arthur had almost demanded that it should be given to him, but the knowledge that big boys did not play with dolls had stayed his tongue. Now he had found something better. Merlin. The baby was much more interesting, to the ever impatient young prince, than any old doll could be. Arthur delighted in telling the infant about his days, preening under the set of blue eyes that was unerringly focused on him. Arthur was too young, and too use to being the centre of attention, to realise Merlin's awareness was unnatural.

After a tense week Gaius deemed Hunith fit to travel, so she and the baby left, headed to a small village just outside of Uther's kingdom. Ealdor.

xXxXxXx

Life in Ealdor was difficult at first for Hunith. They had accepted her readily enough, glad for her knowledge of herbs and medicines. They allowed her to move into the hut which had belonged to the old medicine women, who had passed away three winters since. Despite their acceptance, whispers flew about the child she kept hidden in her hut, the child that seemingly never cried and they never saw. It was deformed, they said. Or the bastard child of a great King, who had banished her upon finding her pregnant. It wasn't a child at all but a doll and she had been driven mad by the lost of her true child. It was a fae changeling child. This last rumour, the closest to the truth, finally prompted Hunith to set about her own rumour.

Two seasons into her stay in the village she was finally visited by the wife of the chief of the village. The woman was a well known gossip, the only woman in the village wealthy enough not to have to work. She had come to request a tea to help her sleep, but more so to snoop. Hunith seized the opportunity. She invited the woman in to her hut, on the pretext of needing to fetch the brew. The hanging blanket, that usually kept the section of the hut Merlin was in separated from any nosy villagers, was left swept back. Merlin was sitting up quietly playing with a soft ball Hunith had fashioned out of rags and left over pieces of cloth. Praying that the woman wouldn't get close enough to see the lack of breath, or that Merlin wouldn't do anything unusual, like float his ball, Hunith began to weave her story.

Hunith casually feigned notice of the woman's attention to her child.

"Oh, I do not believe you have ever met my son, Merlin."

The woman greedily took in the information. A boy then and definitely Hunith's own child, a bastard perhaps?

"No, my dear I don't believe I have. Such a beautiful child. Though he is quite small for his age, for indeed you have been here for six moon passings and he was born before that." The woman left her last statement open ended evidently seeking more information.

This left Hunith the opening she was looking for.

"Yes he is. Merlin was so ill when he was born that he was rendered mute. I have hope that it is not a permanent infliction, but so far he has not made a noise. I must keep him inside; exposure would risk his life should he get ill again." Hunith leaned in close as though imparting a secret, the movement mirrored by her listener.

"You see he is all I have left of his father, my husband died in an accident just before Merlin was born, leaving me alone. His family wouldn't support me, you see, they never approved of our marriage as I had no parents alive and could bring no dowry. I could not bear to stay where he died so I left soon after Merlin's birth."

With that Hunith ended her tale, careful not to make her lie too complex.

"Oh look, I have kept you much longer than you ever intended, my apologies, I did not mean to drag you into my woes, you must forget I ever said anything." Hunith muttered looking embarrassed and sealing the fact that the story would be spread around the village, like wild fire, by this time tomorrow.

"Of course dear, I won't breathe a word of your misfortune to anyone." The woman reassured breathily, "My poor dear such a time you have had. Never fear, you are welcome here with us."

They exchanged a few more polite pleasantries and Hunith handed over the desired tea. Then the woman left in a rush, a new tale to tell her friends.

Hunith collapsed onto her pallet bed after she was gone, relief coursing through her. She had managed, given herself a reason to keep Merlin in doors, and hopefully prevented any villagers sneaking in and uncovering the truth.

xXxXxXx

And so seven years passed, sometimes rushing, sometimes dragging. As Merlin grew, it became difficult to keep him inside all of the time, he was naturally inquisitive and if left to his own devises would wander. So Hunith took him on longer and longer excursions from the village, under the pretext of finding rare herbs, and ingredients for her medicines. They would leave well before dawn, before even the farmers were up, often spending a few days and nights away at a time. Hunith taught Merlin about the outside world and allowed him some freedom to explore in safety.

It was on one such trip that, finally, what Hunith was hoping for came to pass. Merlin, crouching above an over turned rock, pointed out a brightly coloured insect, took his first breath and spoke.

"Mother, what is this."

Hunith, who had waited year to hear that soft voice, knelt down beside him, pulled him into her arms and wept.

xXxXxXx

Meanwhile in Camelot, the young Arthur was having a very different life. The loss of his young friend had caused the three year old to have his biggest tantrum yet, lasting for hours until he had screamed himself to sleep. The subsequent days had been hell for his nurses, as he refused to do anything they asked and had sulked.

But, as is the case for young children, the beautiful baby was eventually forgotten in favour of a new pony, that his father had purchased for him in desperation. If the young prince spoke of blue eyes in his dreams over the years, it was credited to his Mother, who had held him for a single night before the magic took her.

So Arthur grew, trained by the best tutors and knights that his father's money could buy. Over the years he grew cold, as he became aware that his position stopped people from answering him back or telling him whether they truly liked him. He threw himself into his training in an attempt to gain his father approval, and eventually came to love, if not respect, the people that he would one day rule.

There was always something missing, a hole in his life he couldn't explain. So on the cold morning that a twenty year old prince Arthur fired his unfortunate manservant (the fifth in as many weeks), for bringing him the wrong breakfast, he had no idea that this was a day of destiny. Someone was coming to Camelot.


	4. Meeting Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old legends say that Merlin is a Cambion – the child of an incubus and a mortal woman, a child born without breath or heart beat. But what does it mean for his adulthood? This is my take on Merlin “coming of age”. Arther/Merlin Slash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing (weeps).
> 
> Warnings: This story will be SLASH, though as of the moment it is more kind of pre-SLASH.

Today was the last straw. Hunith took in a deep and calming breath as she surveyed her son. At seventeen he was coltish - tall, thin and seemed to be formed of all elbows and knees (and ears). He was also currently looking at the floor, shame faced and cowed.

"Mistress Tanner's entire garden, Merlin!" Hunith's tone was one of fury.

"I know . . . I'm sorry but . . ."

"Sorry doesn't cover it, you decided to use magic to slack off your chores, despite knowing you're strictly banned from doing so."

"I really didn't think it would be that bad. I mean it did work . . . sort of." Merlin tried half heartedly to defend his escapade.

"You caused a rain storm that only stayed over Mistress Tanner's garden, making her think she'd been cursed for wronging the Gods and washed away her entire autumn vegetable patch. What are the Tanner's going to do when the King's men come demanding taxes? They have four children to feed."

"I could make them grow again" Merlin offered, eager to right his wrong.

"You will do NO such thing; you have done enough damage already." Hunith's answer came quickly, "I will offer the Tanner's help. I have some money saved up from my healing in other villages."

"But Mother, you saved the money for this winters clothes and new shoes."

"And it is my son who has done the damage. So it appears we must do without, I can patch my current clothes and the boots I have will see me through another year, maybe if I'm careful I can save enough to have them re-soled."

Merlin let his head sink lower. His chest was tight with misery; his mother desperately needed a new pair of boots and a winter cloak. Too often she went without to make sure her ever growing son was fed and clothed. He tried to protest but she had always calmly stated it was her job as a mother.

Now it was his fault she would yet again not get something she needed.

He really hadn't meant any harm. It had been his job to water all of the villager's vegetable gardens, and he had slogged back and forth to the well all day heaving the heavy buckets. He had almost finished too, when Will had come barreling round the corner yapping about a stag he had spotted and how Merlin absolutely had to help him catch it. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. They would catch the stag and the village would be proud of them. The would all have plenty of meat to eat that week and there would be enough to smoke and store some for winter. All it had taken was a flash of gold eyes and the winds were stirring up a rain cloud.

He had carelessly flipped a hand in the direction of the garden he had yet to water and had then loped off, after a laughing and whooping Will.

Three hours later they had arrived back in the village muddy, tired and without their prize, only to find the villagers standing around the Tanner's garden watching the rain fall. Mistress Tanner had been weeping and wailing that they were being punished. Merlin had guiltily dispelled the rain; while no one was watching him, but it was too late, the damage had been done. There had been his mother, hand on hip, fury in her eyes. He had slunk over to her side knowing what was going to be said when they were alone. He tried his hardest, he really did, but somehow everything seemed to go wrong.

It was his Mother's voice that pulled him out of his self pitying recollection.

"Merlin, you can't keep doing things like this, people are beginning to suspect."

"I know Mother, I'm sorry."

"We can't go on like this Merlin."

Merlin's stomach felt like it was dropping through the floor. "What are you saying?"

"I have an old friend in Camelot; I will send you to him. He may be able to help you."

"You're sending me away?" Desolation in his voice. Suddenly the world seemed like a very big, very lonely place.

The anger faded from Hunith's eyes and she grasped Merlin by the shoulders.

"My son, I shall always love you, but you were made for bigger things than this village, it is suffocating you."

"I can be better, I promise, don't send me away. I . . . I . . . I won't do magic anymore, anything . . . just please . . ." Merlin's voice trailed off, it was useless.

Hunith smiled kindly.

"Merlin you've always wanted to get out of here. Now you can. You will find your place in this world, I promise.

Two days later Merlin set off, a pack on his shoulder and a letter in his pocket. I had been hard to say goodbye to his Mother and Will, but as he walked up the hill away from the village a weight lifted from his chest and he was filled with anticipation. Destiny was afoot.

xXxXxXx

Arthur was bored, morning training hadn't gone well and he had slept badly the night before. The incompetent replacement for his last incompetent manservant was bumbling his way through clearing the lunch dishes for Arthur and his knights.

Bored bored bored.

Arthur let his eyes roam around; surely there must be something to entertain him. Nothing, the peasants were all occupied, the stocks were empty, and his father had forbad him from going on another hunt this week.

Bored bored bored.

He had a counsel session later this afternoon, with all the counsellors squabbling about how unimportant issues should be dealt with.

Bored bored bored.

He would have to sit through the feast this evening, making it look like he was listening with interest to all the tedious speeches that he had heard millions of times before.

Bored bored bored.

After what happened last time with the visiting dignitary and four of his knights, Arthur doubted that his father would even supply a decent amount of wine and ale. He wouldn't even be able to drown his monotony.

Bored bored bored.

It was unlikely that Morgana would be in the mood to entertain him either; she was still in a snit about his father putting that sorcerer to death yesterday.

Bored bored BORED!

His eyes returned to his immediate surrounding and landed on the hapless adolescent who was unfortunate enough to be serving him. His eyes gleamed, well if nothing was going to entertain him, then he would just have to make his own entertainment.

"You there." He called imperiously, sniggering to himself when the poor boy jumped and almost dropped the platter has was carrying, "Go and fetch the bullseye, I think it's time for some target practise."

It was cruel. A part of him felt ashamed, but as he flung his knifes at the moving target, egged on by the younger knights around him, he quashed that guilt. Instead concentrating on the vindictive pleasure it gave him. Then out of the blue a voice cut across his petty emotions.

"Come now, friend, you've had your fun."

He turned to see who this stranger was who dared reprimand him.

Beautiful. The thought floated across his mind as he froze. A shiver ran down his spine and lust shot through him, causing his pants to tighten, as two pairs of blue eyes met each other for the first time in seventeen years.

Arthur didn't know it yet but his life would never been the same again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seemed like a good place to end it for now . . . . I hope you all enjoyed. Hopefully the next chapter won't be so long in coming.


	5. On the Brink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old legends say that Merlin is a Cambion – the child of an incubus and a mortal woman, a child born without breath or heart beat. But what does it mean for his adulthood? Arthur/Merlin AU of Season 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like this chapter very much but it was necessary to explain my take on the series. With the exception of Balinor (which I will explain, just not this chapter) please just take up to the end of series three as canon. Yes Merlin will still be a dragon Lord. I am not one for Gwen bashing so there will be references to her and Arthur, though they won't be together forever.
> 
> Warnings: Reference to both HET and SLASH, though neither explicit.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own my computer and little else, and certainly not Merlin.

In years to come Arthur would never be sure what exactly happened. One morning he was trying to teach an impertinent (beautiful) commoner a lesson (and finding himself to be suddenly and inexplicably clumsy). The very next evening, the same forthright, annoying, (unearthly) peasant was by his side, having pulled him from in front of a flying dagger, and his father was declaring the boy his manservant. It just escalated from there.

No matter what Arthur did, Merlin was beside him, generally making a mess of things, tripping over a lot and failing to even do a half decent impression of a competent, respectful servant. Arthur would never admit it but he wasn't entirely sure what he would do without the idiot.

After his initial reaction to Merlin's aesthetically pleasing form, Arthur firmly put out of his mind any thoughts of what it would be like to have that slender figure beneath him. To make Merlin gasp and writhe, eyes heavy lidded and dazed. He also out of his head all the times Merlin arrived at the last possible moment saving him, or the times that someone attacking him accidentally fell over a log or was hit by a falling branch, or the times when Merlin looked at him with eyes so much older than his years and said something so poignant it hurt Arthur's heart.

No, most of the time Arthur could fool himself into thinking that Merlin was a loveable, well meaning, idiot. Who, had he not been the crown prince, Arthur could have been friends with. As it was they were servant and master, closer than most, but entirely proper. If Arthur sometimes dreamed of blue eyes that flashed gold and porcelain skin laid out for him to caress, then he never recalled it in the morning.

So the years passed and Prince and Warlock grew. Arthur's coming of age, official coronation as crown prince and royal quest passed. They defeated a Dragon and an undead army's, faced the betrayal of a dear friend and sister, and yet together they stood strong.

Arthur had, over time, nourished a romance with Gwen. She was a lovely girl with mocha skin, steadfast brown eyes and a tendency to babble when nervous. She was the physical opposite to Merlin, but his treacherous mind still whispered comparisons. They were both of a class which his father would never accept; both were unusually outspoken and educated for servants and both seemed determined to help him in becoming a great king.

xXxXxXx

Gwen loved Arthur. She also loved Lancelot. So she knew it was possible to love two people at once. She knew it in herself, but she also saw it in Arthur. She had no doubt that Arthur loved her. He was far too good a man to ever lead her on, if it were not the case. It shone in his eyes when he looked at her. She also knew Arthur loved Merlin. She knew it before either of the men had an inkling. Not only did she know, but she could identify the exact moment she realised this was the case.

Arthur and she were having a romantic picnic and Arthur had been waxing lyrically about becoming a farmer or some such nonsense. She had called him on the lie stating that he would never leave his people, and that he would never wish to labour for a scant livelihood. Arthur had laughed stating that he would take Merlin to do all of the hard work, of course. It was meant in jest but Gwen was struck with the truth of the comment. 

There was no Arthur without Merlin, no scenario in which the Prince could conceive not having his manservant with him. Not even in a fantasy where he and Gwen were both simple farmers, married and living together. No notion of how unusual it would be for a young couple starting out to have a third, a friend, who was always there. This had woken her to the bond between the two men and Gwen had observed them together. The way Arthur's eyes would soften, even as insults poured out from his mouth, the way their bodies naturally turned to one another. Arthur's defence of Merlin should any but he insult the boy. She thought that they probably weren't aware of it, the connection that ran between them.

As Arthur stood stoic and strong at the round table asking who would join him, there was never a doubt that Merlin would go, even as he and the Prince joked, relieving some of the tension, Arthur's words rang true.

"You don't have a choice, Merlin."

He didn't, Gwen realised. As all the other men in the room were knighted, Merlin watched on, not jealous, not looking for such an honour himself, and Arthur not thinking to bestow it. He was content in his place by the prince's side.

Gwen realise then, that it did not matter how much she loved Arthur, nor did it matter how much he loved her. He would one day turn from her. He would one day see what was laid plainly before her now and she would never dream to stand between them. After all, her eyes landed on Lancelot, she understood. A shiver course through her as she looked between the three dearest men in her life her prince, her knight and her best friend, she shivered again. Destiny's hand was upon them.

xXxXxXx

Merlin was oblivious, as he normally was in matters of the heart. Oh, he had just about managed to work out that Gwen and Arthur were making eyes at one another and he himself had been enamoured with Freya, but usually he was completely blind to any sort of romance.

He never understood for example why the kitchen maids giggled at him when he came to get the Prince's meals, or why the assistant seamstress, who occasionally measured him for new clothes, felt the need to run her hands over parts of him he was sure didn't need measuring (especially when he was only getting a new shirt).

In general females just made him uncomfortable, he knew about what men did with maidens (goodness knows the knights seemed to joke about it enough, not to mention the stable boys). The closest he'd got to a girl was Freya and he'd been far more interested in the fact she was like him, than in any goings on that might have occurred, had Freya survived to run way with him.

Other than Freya. the only women that he regularly came across were Gwen, Morgana and his Mother. Gwen was lovely, and had kissed him once, but was now emphatically Arthur's and as such forbidden territory. Morgana was beautiful, in a cold fashion, but on the downside was sort of evil and definitely trying to kill him. So girls remained a mystery. Anyway looking after Arthur was certainly a full time occupation in itself, and he was content to remain by the prince's side.

xXxXxXx

It had been three years since he had become Arthur's servant and Merlin was delighted to realise how many people around him he could now call friends.

Gwen was a sweet, undemanding constant in his life.

Now that he was finally knighted Lancelot, when not busy being a credit to his new title and to Camelot, could always be found either beside Gwen or Merlin.

Gaius was as always a wise, stern father figure whom Merlin loved dearly and Sir Elyan was fast becoming a new friend too.

Gwaine had arrived in Merlin's life like a hurricane and had decided his allegiance lay with Arthur, but only as long as Arthur held Merlin's loyalties. Merlin was sure that the dark haired noble was already coming round to the view that Arthur was a man worth following. In the mean time, though, Merlin secretly delighted in having someone who was his friend for his own sake.

Arthur of course was at the centre of everything, Merlin's closest friend, even if he insisted otherwise.

xXxXxXx

Merlin was rapidly approaching his twenty first birthday. 

For the nobles it meant coming of age, being though old enough to act responsibly and be in possession of any inheritance, this was usually accompanied by a ridiculously extravagant feast and enough alcohol to mean nobody acted responsibly. For the peasants it usually just meant another day, if you were lucky friends and family might get you a new set of clothes or something similarly useful.

However, Gaius had been acting oddly recently, always asking Merlin how he felt. Was he having any aches or pains? Did he notice any unusual sensations?

When he wasn't asking unnerving questions he was flipping through ancient tombs written in languages Merlin didn't understand. Muttering about signs and symptoms and concocting potions which were then stored in a hidden alcove "just in case".

Merlin was in fact experience various new problems. He frequently felt itchy inside, like he didn't quite fit his skin properly, and sometimes his temperature soared briefly, leaving him flushed and uncomfortable. If this had been all he would have been happy to tell Gaius, but he knew that if he admitted to these things that Gaius would weasel the rest out of him and there were some things that he was in no way comfortable sharing with his old guardian.

The dreams, for one, vivid imaginings of a warm, firm body holding him down and . . . Merlin blushed at the thought. Dreams of a nameless, faceless man, that he knew, waking up with a name on the tip of his tongue but unable to remember who it was. Dreams that left him drenched in sweat, hard and aching and with no relief, not even when he took himself in hand. After all, what young man wished to admit such a thing? So he carried on with his duties, short of sleep and frustrated, until it all came to a head on the evening before his birthday.

xXxXxXx

"Merlin." Arthur drawled, as he watched Merlin drop his boots for the third time in as many minutes. "I think you are getting clumsier, I didn't think it was possible."

Instead of the pithy retort Arthur was expecting, Merlin simply looked up at him from his position on his knees where he had dropped to pick up the boots. Arthur ignored the frission of pleasure that ran through him at the pose and instead started to worry. Something was wrong with Merlin.

Merlin's face was flushed, colour spreading attractively over sharp cheek bones, his eyes were misty and unfocused and his head lolled slightly on his neck. Arthur, alarmed, swiftly crossed the two meters or so between them and crouched down next to his manservant, hand going to his forehead.

Hot and damp.

"Come on Merlin, what's the matter?" Arthur shook him gently. "Merlin!"

Merlin slumped in Arthur's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll leave it here for now. Tell me what you think.
> 
> Lintila x.


	6. Fate Unfurls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The BBC owns Merlin, and I do not own the BBC alas.
> 
> Warning: SLASH

Last time:

Arthur, alarmed, swiftly crossed the two meters or so between them and crouched down next to his manservant, hand going to his forehead.

Hot and damp.

"Come on Merlin, what's the matter?" Arthur shook him gently. "Merlin!"

Merlin slumped in Arthur's arms.

Now:

Arthur staggered down to Gaius's quarters as quickly as he could manage carrying Merlin. Two things registered other than his worry. One: Merlin was too light for his height and Arthur really should make sure his manservant ate more. Two: even underweight, a fully grown man feels ridiculously heavy when carrying his full dead weight for any distance.

Finally he reached the Physician's rooms and slamming the door open he called out.

"Gaius, come quick."

The older man shuffled into the main room with a book in one hand and a stern expression.

"Your highness, I realise that you are young and impatient but that is no reason to . . ." 

Whatever Gaius may or may not have accused Arthur of doing faded as he saw the Prince's burden. The old man froze for a second, book falling from numb fingers, dread in his mind before he rapidly changed gear.

"Well don't just stand there, quick bring him here and lay him down."

Gaius indicated the pallet he kept to one side, for patients he would need to see to through the night. He went ahead of Arthur turning down the blankets and guiding Merlin's head gently onto the pillow as Arthur set him down.

The Physician's gnarled fingers worked rapidly over Merlin, checking pulse, breathing and other vital signs. As he worked he questioned Arthur.

"What happened? How long has he been like this?"

Arthur scrubbed a hand through tousled blond hair.

"He collapsed in my room, I brought him immediately."

"He collapsed? Were there any signs? Tiredness, Dizziness?" Gaius probed, while checking Merlin's head for bumps or swelling.

Arthur's hand moved to rub his forehead, his stomach churning. 

"I don't know, he was clumsier, not acting like normal and then he just collapsed. He didn't hit the floor though. I caught him."

Arthur blush slightly at this, being close enough to catch a falling servant was not really something a prince should admit too.

However, Arthur knew from field experience with the knights, that it was important for a Physician to know if a state of continued unconsciousness was due to whatever had caused it in the first place, or by damage done in the fall.

"Good." Gaius replied, "That narrows it down." 

He moved rapidly around the room collecting vials of smelling salts and a couple of other potions.

Arthur watched on, feeling slightly awkward, as Gaius failed to revive Merlin with first the smelling salts (though they made Arthur's nose burn from where he was) and then with both of the potions. Finally when the supper bell clanged loudly, Gaius finally straightened and turned to Arthur.

"Sire, you should attend the evening meal, there is nothing you can do for Merlin at the moment and I must have time and peace to research without people getting underfoot."

Arthur was torn between concern; it was evidently something serious if Gaius said he would have to research, and indignation; he was not often accused of being "underfoot".

Eventually he had to concede Gaius' point. He could do no good here. Feeling as if he had suddenly been cut adrift he slowly made his way to the door, turning one last time to look at Merlin and say to Gaius.

"You will send for me if there is any change?"

"Of course sire."

Arthur left. He would go and find Gwen; she would know what to do, even if it was as simple as to tell him everything would be okay.

xXxXxXx

Gaius waited until the princes footsteps had faded before turning to the secret alcove. He dragged down several book and some of the potions he had made earlier. He had worried something like this would happen. Now where was that passage, he had seen it referenced years ago when Hunith had first come to him with Merlin, but he couldn't remember where it was from.

He had known when Merlin came to Camelot that he should have research cambion lore. Somehow he had kept putting it off. There had always seemed other, more urgent, things to attend to and so he had stuck his head in the sand. Now Merlin may very well pay for his folly.

There was no use for regrets now. He opened the first of the arcane tombs. They were dangerous books, merely knowing of them was enough to raise questions of magic, but Gaius was damned if he was going to let the boy, who he saw as a son, die.

He settled down to work.

xXxXxXx

Hours later Gaius sat back letting the book droop in his lap. Candlelight flickered and cast twisted shadows on the walls. He glanced at Merlin and noted that the boy had slipped from unconsciousness into a natural, if heavy sleep.

He had finally found it. Leaning forward he read the passage through for the second time.

Powerful and beloved,

Child of man and monster,

Both good and evil,

Never whole in spirit,

Half and only and evil prevails,

Carnal lusts give life, but damns,

Whole and a balance is struck,

Love and lust intertwine,

Power flows pure and true.

This passage coupled with several more texts set a grim future for Merlin. With Merlin's coming of age the power within him was overwhelming his body and soul.

There were two pathways ahead. Either Merlin found his balance, the one who could ground him or his magic would change him. He would become what could stand the power roiling through him and what would lust for more. Demon spawn. An incubus: a creature driven to seek more and more power to sustain himself, eventually taking the very life others.

Gaius shuddered. The thought of the gentle boy he knew being driven into evil. Merlin would despise such an existence. But what could he do? He did not have the strength of character to end it before it had begun, but the chance of finding Merlin's match was next to impossible.

There were various legends about soulmates. Some texts said they did not exist, some gave possible examples. All, that hinted at the possibility, stated the rarity of such a match.

Gaius glanced at the boy lying peacefully on the bed. He knew now what would happen. Merlin would awake soon, apparently unharmed. But he would change, maybe over weeks, maybe over months but eventually the bright boy he knew would be replaced with a fae creature driven by base desires, and a danger to those around him. Gaius did not know if he could bare it.

As he sat soberly by the flickering candle, a memory came to him. It was a rumour, considered a romantic folly by even those of the old religion. A fairytale if you will. He hurried over to his store cupboard, even a fairytale was better than nothing.

Grabbing the ingredients he would need, he made his way to the sleeping Merlin. He gently placed a rose petal on each of the warlock's eyelids.

"See them in sleep and let them see you."

It felt like such a tiny worthless thing, but it was the best he could do. Gaius wearily shuffled to the back room to rest, if only for a couple of hours.

Beneath the rose petals and Merlin's slumbering lids his irises flashed gold. Merlin turned his head petals dropping softly to the blankets. In his dreams a voice echoed.

"Two sides of the same coin."

xXxXxXx

Half way across the castle Arthur tossed and turned in a fitful sleep. Despite his earlier thoughts, Gwen's company had not made him easier; in fact he had somehow ended up feeling guilty for some fathomless reason. Eventually he had made a weak excuse and retreated to his chambers. Though that was not much better, everything reminded him of Merlin, from the sloppily made bed, to the boots still strewn on the floor where Merlin had dropped them.

When he finally managed to get to sleep he dreamed of blue eyes and gold fire.

In the early hours of the morning he was jolted awake by a voice.

"Two sides of the same coin."

As if lead, he made his way down to the physician's quarters. Stumbling into the room, his gaze ran straight the figure of Merlin. He sighed with relief as he took in the easy rise and fall of his manservant's chest.

He made his way over. Sitting down, he felt awkward once again. He searched for something to say.

"Wake up idiot, my boots need cleaning."

A voice answered.

"Well maybe you should clean them yourself prince prat."

Arthur looked down. Merlin eyes were still closed but a grin was spreading across his face.

Arthur felt a weight lift of him, but replied in like, revelling in the familiar banter.

"You fainted you twit, if I find out you were up late flirting with some tavern wench and unable to do your job properly . . . " He let the tongue in cheek threat hang, growl in his voice.

Merlin's eyes snapped open in indignation.

"I didn't faint."

"You did." Arthur replied gleefully, "like a girl."

Merlin's eye narrowed for a second, before a grin spread across his face.

"You missed me."

It was Arthur's turn to be indignant.

"I did no such thing." Seeing the smirk spread, Arthur huffed. "Anyway who is going to amuse me by tripping over a bucket they just dropped if you're here slacking."

Merlin's smile softened.

"I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you Sire."

Arthur rolled his eyes, standing up.

"Well, take today off, but I expect you bright and early tomorrow with a full, hot breakfast." With a one glance back he turned and slipped out of the door.

Merlin sighed to himself and settled back on his pillows, no doubt he would have Gwen and Gaius mother henning him for the next week. Gwaine would find every excuse to help him, probably assisting him carrying things as if he was a Maiden. Lancelot would look pained and worried and ask under if breath if it was anything to do with magic. Arthur would huff and insult him, but his chores would probably be lighter than usual. He smiled. It was good to have friends.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued.
> 
> So what do people think? Let me know. I plan for this to be a shortish story with slash in it.
> 
> Lintila x.


End file.
